She confided in me yesterday. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. Not at all. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. Do sit down, dear boy. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Mr.
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